The Art of Persuasion
by ForevermoreNevermore
Summary: As young ladies know, as it was instilled into their minds at a rather young age, the quickest way to get into a man’s heart is through his stomach. Then what, praytell, is the quickest way into a women’s? A story of which a man learns his wife.


_I have been inspired to write one from this story, but when you picture it, picture it with the way they looked in the 2005 (I think) movie. That was kind of my inspiration._

_Disclaimer: I do not own Pride and Prejudice.

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The Art of… _Persuasion_

_As young ladies know, as it was instilled into their minds at a rather young age, the quickest way to get into a man's heart is through his stomach. Then what, praytell, is the quickest way into a women's? _

The house seemingly shook on it's base, it's wood frame shuddering with feared anticipation as it's master rampaged through, his mind bothered and angry as his stomach yearned for something sitting and waiting dutifully in the drawing room. He slammed open the door and allowed it to bang loudly against the wall as he drank in the marvelous and surprising sight before him: his young wife.

Elizabeth Darcy, formally Bennet, sat curled up on the small loveseat, busily devouring the book that spilled its words to her eyes alone. Her hair was slightly messier than usual, but her clothes hung politely to her body and spilled off the couch, lazily dragging on the ground. At the door's cry, she glanced up from her book at her husband.

"Oh!" she gasped, placing a small ribbon in the book and setting it beside her for another day. She smiled sheepishly at him and hurriedly corrected her skirts. "I thought you had gone outside!"

Darcy glanced around the room, but the subject of his searching had disappeared, probably without a trace. "I had, but only for a moment. My hand had cramped from all of the writing." He once again glanced around the room, before letting his gaze stop on Elizabeth, who seemed happy to look anywhere but at him. He sighed and walked over to the loveseat, sitting down after moving the book aside.

"Is something the matter? I would be happy to go fetch you something from the kit…" the young bride trailed off as Darcy shook his head, gently grabbing her wrist as she tried to stand up.

"No need… I do believe I had something in here, but it seems it has wandered off, leaving no note of it's whereabouts." He scowled, but only to keep his small smile from showing. For a moment, Elizabeth seemed stuck for words, but that change in personality soon changed.

"Why dear, I did not know you had acquired a taste for eating Golden Retrievers," she glanced fondly out the window to where the blond dog ran around as though searching for the meaning of it's shaggy-haired existence. She was drawn out of her reverie by a gentle tug at her wrist, and a finger drawn gently from her elbow down to the other hand. She was once again met by Darcy's inquisitive stare.

"Mrs. Darcy…" it wasn't a question, merely a statement that rung it's hidden meanings only to Elizabeth. A slight, hardly a pink, brushed across her porcelain cheeks. "My dear Mrs. Darcy, I haven't seen your cheek red since you spent your time testing the limits of the ozone layer," her blush darkened slightly. Darcy chided, "Tsk, tsk, tsk, you should probably go into town to see the doctor, you might be coming down with something."

"I'm not sick!" said the wife, haughtily, "You and your silver-tongued words, you silly man!" she sniffed and tried to pull her wrist back, but failed. _If you really wanted your wrist back, you would've had it back,_ he thought, smiling inwardly at his infuriatingly charming wife.

"Silver-tongued? Is that a compliment?" he leaned in closer, gently taking a brunette ringlet in his fingers before tucking it behind her ear. She sniffed and turned towards him, surly intent on glaring at him, but failing and only supplying a distant relative of a haughty glance.

"No, not at all. I was simply further describing your forked tongue, Mr. Darcy." Said nobleman bent in closer still, and ran his knuckles softly down her cheek facing opposite him. Elizabeth tried to stare down her love, but failed as he leaned in and planted a resolve-breaking, softly delicate and loving kiss on her silkily soft lips.

Darcy retrieved himself from her loving lips and gave a small grunt of recognition and triumph. "My dear, is that ham I taste on your usually sweet lips?" her eyes widened and she pulled away from his grasp.

"You tricked me! You knew I took your sandwich!" she huffed, standing from the couch. Darcy gave a warm chuckle and stood, gently clasping both of her wrists.

"Yes, but I needed to know the truth, and no one lies like you do, dear Lizzy."

"Indeed. But you need no words for _your_ lies," she indignantly turned her face to the wall, leaving him only a cheek to look at.

"My dear, over-reacting and silly wife, I wasn't lying, I was merely trying to persuade you to tell the truth." And he gently left a kiss on her cheek as he left in search of a replacement sandwich for the one that had so easily been _persuaded_ away without his knowledge.

_A kiss. The quickest way to a women's heart is a kiss. But that lesson had it's losses as well, but was is a sandwich compared to the secret to women?

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_And there you have it! Quick and easy... like taking off a band-aid.  
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